Bethyl one shot collection
by Sworn2Kill
Summary: SPOILERS FROM SEASON 4 ONWARDS! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK! A collection of one shots of varying length containing the characters Beth and Daryl. Contains canon, but also lots of what could have beens. If you're a lover of Beth and Daryl have a read and feel free to leave suggestions of any one shots you'd like to see of them!
1. Gone

**Hey guys, this fic is just a collection of one shots containing Beth and Daryl. Some will be canon and obviously some won't. There may even be some AU one shots somewhere along the line. I'll put a brief summary at the start of each chapter so that you guys know under what category each one shot falls.**

 **SPOLERS AHEAD, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!**

 _ **This one shot is canon and takes place at the end of Coda. It's a one shot on what was going through Daryl's head when Beth was shot.**_

 **Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead**

A gunshot. That was all it took to end the world. One goddamn gunshot to ruin everything.

And for a single moment after that terrible sound ripped through the air, time stood frozen. As if the universe itself was in shock at the tragedy that had just taken place. Shocked because this wasn't supposed to be part of the plan, the good people weren't supposed to die, fate had messed up. Because surely, this wasn't supposed to be the end of Beth Greene.

Not here in what pretended to be a hospital, with its grubby white walls, and stale air. Not here where her blood would just be mopped up as soon as she was moved. Not here, just steps away from me. Not before she ever got to know just how much I cared about her.

Yet time wasn't rewinding, fate didn't correct itself. Beth still lay on the floor, gold mixing with scarlet. Still dead.

A second gunshot broke the spell.

It took a moment before Daryl even realised the shot had come from his own gun. The action, the vengeance had been so automatic that be barely even registered moving.

It brought no relief, killing the officer who had murdered Beth. Murdered his Beth. She was still dead, still gone. And there was nothing more to do.

Tears leaked out of his eyes, and for once he didn't try to stop them. He didn't care who saw, or what they might mean. He couldn't care about anything other than the fact she was gone, and that he would never see her again.

Even when she'd been taken, he'd had hope. Hope that he'd find her, hope that she was alive. No matter how fleeting that hope was, no matter the odds that were stacked against them, he'd had faith that he'd see her again. Had faith that she was strong enough to survive.

It was that strength that had gotten her killed. A strength that no one had seen but him. Well, now they knew. Now they fucking knew how strong she had been all along, and how wrong they were about her.

Daryl was vaguely aware of Rick speaking. Speaking to those whom had all played a role in Beth's capture, Beth's imprisonment, Beth's death. Carol was beside him, hugging him. He felt none of it, heard none of it. The only thing he could focus on was the growing pool of blood on the floor. The way it spiralled, and reflected the light coming in from the window.

And then they were leaving. Just like that it was time to go. Leaving as they had planned, with Beth and Carol. How sickly ironic it was.

Without question, without hesitation, Daryl went over to Beth and scooped her up. Just as he'd done when she had injured her ankle. The image was almost painful to remember. They were happy. For perhaps the only time in his life, in that moment with Beth living, breathing, laughing in his arms, he'd been carefree. Somehow he knew it was not a feeling he'd experience again.

He was mildly surprised that she was still warm. But then he supposed she would be. It had only been minutes since that fatal gunshot. Minutes since Beth departed her body.

As he held her, he almost expected her eyes to open. Almost expected her to try to sit up, a dazed look in her eyes as she asked what was going on. But her eyes remained shut, the stillness of her chest, the absence of breath mocking him as he held her close. Her blood stained his vest, but he didn't notice or care as he walked out of that god-forsaken hospital, feeling deader than the walkers that roamed the parking lot.

No matter how hard he tried, Daryl Dixon couldn't fathom a world that didn't have Beth Greene in it.

 **Thank you for reading! My inbox and as well the review section is always open for feedback. Also if you have any suggestions for future one shots that could be included in this fic, I would be extremely grateful!**


	2. Escape

_**One shot where Beth manages to escape Grady with Noah.**_

 **Disclaimer: I don't own The Walking Dead.**

Bullets whizzed past Beth, missing her by a hair's width, as she ran through the parking lot. Ran like she'd never run before, away from Grady, away from her captors.

Her ankle twinged, a shooting pain ripping up her leg, but still she didn't stop. It had almost completely healed, but now she was almost certain that she'd been pushed back to square one. But if only she could get to safety she'd be fine. If only her and Noah could get out of the city, then they could figure out a plan of action from there.

She was anxious to get back to her family. If any of them had even survived that was. The image of all those walkers at the funeral home flitted through her head, making her heart stumble in her chest. There were so many of them. How could anyone survive that? But she knew that if anyone could find a way, it would be Daryl.

"Come on, in here," Noah said, grabbing her wrist and pulling her into a building. She followed him without question, stumbling through the entrance hall towards a stairwell.

Her eyes flicked around the building, searching for both walkers and police officers. Beth didn't doubt for a second that Dawn would send people after them. She didn't want to find out what would happen if they were caught.

She winced as Noah clattered through the door to the stairwell. After spending so much time with Daryl after the fall of the prison, she'd grown to appreciate silence. The hunter had made no more noise than a ghost as he glided through the forest. Noah on the other hand sounded more like a baby elephant. In a world like this, noise was never a good thing.

"Shhh," she hissed, making her own way up the stairs. The pain in her ankle increased, but she could ignore it as long as she had other things to focus on. Things like keeping alive.

Noah shot her an apologetic glance, as they moved further up the stairs. They moved slowly, allowing Beth to take in her surroundings, to listen to any noise. She sent up a silent prayer that the building would be mostly empty of walkers. She didn't think the pair of them could take down an entire herd, and she didn't like the odds of escaping one either. Not with her ankle playing up and the officers of Grady at their backs.

"Keep going," she whispered, giving Noah a gentle nudge on the back. She felt too exposed here. On the stairs it was too easy for them to be attacked from both below and above. They needed to get somewhere where they could lock themselves in, and hunker down for the night.

They found that the building was deserted. There was still evidence of the mass panic that had consumed it in the early days of the outbreak, tables flipped, chairs scattered. She could only imagine what it must have been like to be in the city once the world had ended. Out on the farm, not much changed really. They'd stopped going into town, stopped having neighbours come to visit. They'd only seen the occasional walker, and when they did, Otis took care of them pretty quickly. But in the city, you were surrounded. It must have been carnage.

As they made their way through the building, Beth took the lead. She was able to easily dispatch of any lone walkers that they came across, and it seemed odd to her now how she used to be so terrified of them. They were so slow that she could easily plunge a knife into their skulls without too much effort.

Noah looked on in what could only be described as awe as she drove a pair of scissors into the temple of a walker that looked like it had been wearing a suit when things turned ugly. Beth ignored Noah's admiration. There was no pride in disposing of the bodies of those who were once human, who had gone into work one day, never knowing that they wouldn't come back out.

At last they came to an office that was closed off from the rest of the floor. It most likely belonged to a manager of some sort back in the day, and it was perfect to hole up in for the night.

"Help me with this," she said, lifting up one end of the desk. Together they moved it in front of the door, blocking the only way in, and the only way out. She just hoped to god that no one would find them.

"What do we do if they find us?" Noah said, propping himself up on the edge of the desk. His fingers tapped nervously against the wood, the sound matching the pattering of her heart.

"That's up to you," she said, shrugging. She wandered over to the window, and from this height she could see almost the entire city. "But I ain't going back."

"But if they come here, there's no way out, Beth. We'll have no choice."

"There's always a choice," she breathed.

Finally catching her train of thought, Noah followed Beth's gaze towards the window and the city that lay beyond.

"The window opens," she said, indicating the latch. "And we're what, eleven stories up? That kinda drop is enough to kill anyone."

She heard Noah gulp from behind her. Surprisingly, she felt strangely calm discussing her possible death. It was perhaps the one guaranteed thing in all of their lives: that they'd eventually all die. In a world full of chaos and destruction, the silence of death was almost appealing. She'd made the choice to die once before in her life, and though she was a different person now, she didn't think she'd hesitate at having to make the choice again. Not when the alternative was being taken back to Grady.

"I don't expect you to do the same," she said, turning to face Noah, who looked more than a little terrified. She almost felt guilty for giving him the option of death. Perhaps he otherwise wouldn't have thought about the possibility, and he'd have been able to resign himself to whatever Grady had for him. Coices wasn't always a blessing.

"And lets face it, I probably won't be sticking around long enough to find out what you choose."

"Don't joke about stuff like that, Beth," he said, his face paling slightly. She hoped that he wouldn't be sick. It would really be a pain in the ass being in this tiny, stuffy room with a pile of puke to keep them company.

"Oh, lighten up! We gotta have somethin' to smile about!"

He only looked at her in disbelief, shaking his head slightly. "You're supposed smile at good things like puppies, and vacation, and… I don't know. Not about jumping out of the eleventh floor of a building."

"I didn't say we should smile about that. I just don't think we should be sad about it is all. And besides, I don't see any puppies around, do you?"

"You know that's not what I meant."

She only made her way back over to him, nudging him in the arm. He knocked his shoulder into hers in reply, and a small smile twisted at the corners of her lips.

They sat there for a long time, side by side on the small wooden desk that barricaded the door. Silence fell over them, though it wasn't uncomfortable or awkward. In this life, silence was good. Silence meant there wasn't something behind you waiting to eat your flesh.

"We should get some rest," she said at last, smothering a yawn. "We can figure out what else to do in the morning."

"I second that," Noah said, stretching out his long arms. He nudged her in the side with his foot, effectively pushing her off of the desk.

"Hey," she exclaimed, faking outrage. He just held up his hands in a, _what can you do?_ kind of way.

"I was here first," he said as he stretched out on the desk. Well, stretched out as much as a fully-grown boy could on a relatively small desk. She wasn't jealous of him. That thing looked like hell to sleep on.

She couldn't help but wonder if the reason he'd chosen to sleep there at all was because if anything or anyone tried to get in, they'd inevitably capture him first. It would be the time she needed to make her escape.

She didn't say anything of it, just hoped to god that that never happened. Her and Noah would get out of this alive. She knew they would.

It wasn't long before the sun dropped from the sky, leaving them in darkness. As it did, the moans of the walkers on the street below intensified, building up in a crescendo. _We're safe up here,_ she reminded herself, closing her eyes against the noise. For a moment she wished Maggie or Daryl was there to keep her safe, to protect her. _I don't need them_ , she assured herself. She'd survived Grady, she'd survived the escape without them. Why should she need them now? She was strong enough to protect herself.

Still, she flinched at every sound, cringed at every moan of the dead. Perhaps she wouldn't be getting as much rest as she thought she would after all. Peeping open an eye, she glanced over at Noah from where she lay on the floor.

The steady rise and fall of his chest indicated his state of slumber, and she was instantly jealous of him. How could he possibly sleep so soundly when they were in so much danger?

She wasn't sure how long she lay there, staring at the ceiling, willing herself to fall asleep. Counting sheep hadn't worked, nor had thinking happy thoughts, and she'd just about given up when she heard them. Foot steps.

In an instant she was on her feet, scissors in hand. Without a sound she crept over to where Noah slept, gently shaking him awake. His eyes whipped open, wide and dazed, but understanding flooded them when she held a finger to her lips.

Slowly, he slid off the desk, mimicking her defensive stance. With everything she had in her, she trained her ears on the pitter patter of the footfall coming from the other side of the door. Trying to recall everything Daryl had ever taught her, she measured the pattern of the steps in her head. Two pairs, she concluded. Two people were on the other side of that door, drawing closer and closer with every step.

One set was quieter than the other, so quiet that she almost couldn't hear them over the thundering of her heart, but they were there all the same.

Her eyes flicked to Noah's, and she saw her own panic reflected on his face. Surely the officers of Grady wouldn't have risked entering the city at night? Surely they weren't that desperate to get them back?

The people now spoke in hushed tones. She registered the sound of a man's voice and a woman's voice, logging the information into her brain. If they weren't officers from Grady, she might be able to use the information against them if it became necessary.

If they were close, as she suspected they were from their intimate tones, she'd only have to threaten one of them. The woman would likely be the easier target, simply because she was more likely to be similar in size to Beth than the man, whose gruff voice was growing nearer.

If she could injure the woman, the man would likely stay behind to help her rather than chase Noah and herself. It would give them a chance to escape.

Even as the plan formed in her head, she hated herself for it. What had she become? Injuring someone else for her own gain. Was this what her life had turned into?

"What do we do?" Noah breathed, an even that slight sound put her nerves on edge. She took a breath to still her nerves before she replied.

"We wait."

And wait they did. For half an hour before it became apparent that the couple weren't leaving. From the sounds of it, she expected that they'd made a camp for the night. It was just their luck. Eleven floors to choose from and they chose this one. Beth supposed that she should just be grateful that the intruders weren't aware of their presence.

"You get some sleep," she said at last. "I'll keep watch."

"Beth, no. I'll keep watch, you need to rest."

"Noah, there's no way in hell that I'll be able to sleep now. And this really isn't the time or the place to argue."

He only frowned, but sat down on the floor none the less. With his back propped against the wall, his eyes were closed in minutes, though he didn't regain the restful slumber he'd had earlier. Even in sleep, Beth could tell that he was still alert.

She sat down beside him, sliding down the wall to match his posture. She kept the scissors brandished in front of her, hoping they'd be enough if anyone tried to get in.

Silence fell throughout the building once more, and she could only assume that the people outside had gone to sleep too. The thought gave her little comfort, and did nothing to calm her frayed nerves. At least the people clearly weren't from Grady. There'd be no reason for any of the officers to stay out over night, and the people on the other side of the door clearly weren't aware of their presence. They were survivors just as she was, just trying to find their way. But she knew full well it was those people who were often the most dangerous.

She was still too on edge to go to sleep, but as the night dragged on, hours passing her by, she began to doze. Her eyelids felt as if they were lined with tiny weights, so she decided to close them for just a minute. What harm could a minute do after all?

Leaning her head back against the wall, she allowed her mind to clear a little, momentarily enabling her to forget the danger they were in. The danger they were always in. And as her mind relaxed, her body did too. Her fingers loosening as sleep threatened to drag her under.

Beth was startled awake as the scissors fell from her grasp, clattering onto the floor. The sound wasn't loud, not loud enough to even wake Noah, but she new that for anyone listening out, it would have been as clear as day.

And she was right; she heard movement from the other side of the door. Quiet scuffles that were all the more frightening in the pitch black.

She held her breath, too fearful to move, even to wake Noah. Perhaps it was a gift to spare him from the terror she was now feeling.

The footsteps were the closest they'd ever been now, right on the other side of the door. She could sense rather than hear the breath of the person outside, could tune in to the sound of their heart as it pounded in their chest.

As if in slow motion, the handle of the door turned, one notch then two, before going the rest of the way. Beth's eyes flitted to the window, wondering whether the time had come to make that choice. But suddenly she didn't want to jump any more. She would fight her way out of this if it killed her.

The person tried to push the door open, a bold move on their part. A move that made her assume they had a weapon of some kind. The door bumped into the desk, preventing it from opening any further, though if the person put more force behind it, she was sure the barricade wouldn't hold for long.

She scrambled for the scissors, crashing into Noah as she did so. She figured that if they hadn't known what was in here before, the desk pushed in front of the door was a dead give away that there was someone hiding in here.

Noah sprang to his feet, his eyes zeroing in on the partly open door. His jaw set, he looked more like a survivor than Beth had even seen him before. Together they could take on whoever was outside. Two versus two. She didn't mind those odds.

Beth grabbed a potted plant off of the windowsill, the leaves of the thing had long since wilted and died, but the clay pot could make a decent weapon. Without a word she handed it to Noah, holding her own weapon up a little higher.

Another set of footsteps joined those of the person at the door, though they made no effort to communicate. The situation was most bizarre, all four of them standing in silence, just waiting for some sign to move. She could imagine that they'd be standing there forever. The stupidity of it almost made her giggle.

"Don't want any trouble," one of intruders said from behind the door. It was the man's voice, gruff and harsh, and not in the least frightened. Somewhere in the back of her head she recognised that voice, but brushed it off. Lots of people sounded similar. It was silly to entertain the idea that it was familiar to her.

"Neither do we," Noah replied, and unlike the other man's voice, his had a slight tremor to it. She couldn't blame him for it. At least he had actually managed to summon some sort of response. Her own words were caught in her throat, slowly choking her.

The word 'we' caused some sort of commotion on the other side of the door, and she cringed at the fact that they'd just given away any advantage they might have had. The pair had a lengthy muffled discussion that she thought sounded like a disagreement, before they spoke out again.

This time it was the women that spoke. "You seen any cars around here? Ones with a white cross on the back window?"

She glanced at Noah in panic, her heart racing in her chest. They were looking for Grady? Did they work for them, were there other branches of the hospital? The thought of being taken back there made her fingers tighten around the scissors, her knuckles turning white.

"What's it to you?" Noah asked, his voice only sounding slightly more stable this time around. It was too dark to see his face clearly, but she suspected that a similar look of panic to her own resided there.

"Listen, you son of a bitch," the male voice growled, and it was so familiar that it froze her to the spot. "We're looking for someone," the voice continued, and with every word, she could feel more and more of her blood drain from her face.

"Daryl, for gods sake," the woman said. Not just any woman. That was Carol, she was sure of it.

"Please," Carol said. "If you know anything, please tell us."

Her lips and tongue were numb, her lungs turning to stone in her chest. She couldn't have said a word even to save her life.

Never had she truly expected this day to come. She never expected to see her family again, even though she'd hoped every day for it. And if Daryl had found Carol, maybe he'd found the others too. Maybe Maggie was here, and Glenn and Rick and Carl and Michonne and Judith. It was too much to hope, too good to be true.

And she was just standing there, dumbstruck. Why the hell was she just standing there?

All at once she burst into action, lunging at the desk.

"What the hell are you doing?' Noah hissed as she started to drag the desk away, the only thing barricading her route to Daryl and Carol. The only thing standing in her way.

"Help me move this," she demanded, and something in her tone must have warned him not to argue. Silently, he helped push away the desk.

"Ya better not try anythin'," Daryl said from the other side of the door upon hearing the commotion that was going on within. She imagined that he'd have his cross bow aimed right at them, Carol standing next to him with her knife drawn. She just hoped they'd realise it was her before they shot or stabbed her.

"Oh my god, it's you," she said, throwing the door open and flinging herself at the archer. It probably wasn't the wisest move considering he had a fully loaded weapon aimed right at her, but she didn't care. She didn't care because he was here. He was actually here.

Her arms locked around him, holding him tighter than she'd ever held onto something before. As if she were afraid that he'd disappear in a puff of smoke if she didn't.

"What the?" He said, confusion evident both on his face and in his voice, but it was soon overwhelmed by relief and joy and utter disbelief.

Strong arms pulled her close, and she buried herself into his torso. He smelled of woods and cigarettes and home, and she'd never been happier in her entire life. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks.

"What're you doing here?" She asked, her words muffled by his chest. Still, she couldn't bring herself to end the hug, not yet.

"Came ta find you," he replied, and she may have been imagining it but she could have sworn that he sounded a little choked up.

Finally, after what felt like forever, but was still too soon, he drew back, holding her at arms length. His hands, dirty and callused, were solid against her shoulders as he took her in. Her own hands covered his, unable to be out of contact for even a second.

She saw his jaw stiffen as he took in the cuts and bruises on her face, and the bandage on her wrist. He must have sensed that now wasn't the time to interrogate her on it, because he kept his mouth firmly shut. Though she didn't doubt that she'd get a grilling later on. Nor did she doubt that Daryl would try to hunt down every single officer at Grady that had made her a life a living hell. And she wasn't sure that she had it in her to stop him.

"I can't believe it's you," she said, and as if her hands had a life of their own, they reached out, her fingers trailing along the plains of his face. A face she knew so well, perhaps even better than she knew her own. And for once, he didn't draw away from her touch, didn't seem the slightest bit awkward or uncomfortable. Even if he had, she would have ignored it.

"Better believe it, girl," he said, wiping away one of her tears with his thumb. "Cos' I ain't ever letting you outta my sight again."

 **Thanks for reading! Like always my inbox and the review section are always open for feedback and one shot suggestions! :)**


	3. Drunk

_**One shot where Beth gets very drunk at Deanna's party.**_

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Walking Dead**

Beth was already in a mood when she reached Deanna's party. And the reason for her foul mood was none of other than Daryl Dixon. After she'd begged and begged him to come with her to the party, he'd still refused to go. He'd claimed 'it wasn't his thing'.

And now she was stuck being a third wheel with her sister and Glenn. Great. That wasn't awkward at all.

The moment they stepped into Deanna's house she glanced around to map out where her friends were. Rick and Michonnne were in front of the fireplace talking to Reg and his son, Spencer was it? Rosita, Abraham and Eugene sat huddled in a corner, a can of beer in each of their hands and a glazed look in their eyes that told her it was not their first of the night. Tara stood off to one side of the trio, talking to a young lady with glasses who she'd never seen before. The two seemed to be getting along swimmingly. Carol was milling around the kitchen, looking happier than Beth had ever seen her, though something about her bright, motherly smile seemed false.

It seemed that everyone had made friends but her. Hell, even Carl had found his own clique. She could see him flirting with that girl Enid out of the corner of her eye, and she couldn't help but smile at the young boy. If for no other reason, she was glad that they'd found Alexandria just so that Carl could hang out with people his own age. It wasn't good to grow up too quickly. Her daddy had told her that.

But it meant that she was stuck being a third wheel with Glenn and Maggie. At least until she found different people to fit in with, or got drunk enough to not care who she talked to.

At their entrance, Deanna looked over, a warm smile spreading across her face. She beckoned them over with a wave of her hand. Maggie smiled in return and began making her way over to the leader of Alexandria. Beth followed close behind her sister, grabbing a large glass of red wine that was offered to her as she did.

"Maggie, I was just telling Tobin and Barbara about your new position here. About how we plan to make Alexandria great again," Deanna said, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

"That's the plan," Maggie beamed. It irked Beth a little that Maggie had found a place here so easily. She hadn't had to work her way up the ladder, she'd just been handed the respect of the Alexandria residents on a plate. As if proof of this, Tobin and Barbara stared at her sister in admiration.

Beth took a gulp of her wine, cringing at the rich taste. Perhaps the wine wasn't such a good idea, but she suspected that she'd need it to get through tonight. She swallowed another mouthful of the stuff, refusing to allow anyone to see she was the newbie drinker. After a while, she began to actually enjoy the fruity taste of it, though not as much as she enjoyed the warmth it brought to her stomach.

Beth tuned back into the conversation with only mild interest, smiling and nodding when the others did. Glenn kept throwing her wary looks, his eyes flicking every now and then to her glass that was gradually growing emptier. She couldn't help but think that he was being a hypocrite as she eyed his own half empty glass.

She was tempted to say something to him about it, but the thought was interrupted as Deanna turned her piercing gaze towards her. "Beth, I hear you're excellent with children," the woman said.

"I'm okay," Beth replied, a blush rising to her cheeks. She wasn't used to being praised, and for some reason she wanted Deanna's approval. She wanted to be treated with the same respect that Maggie was. "I mean, I do what I can to help."

"She's just being modest," Maggie said, giving Beth a slight nudge in the shoulder. "Honestly, Deanna, you should see her. She's a natural, always has been."

"I'm glad to hear it," Deanna said, and something about her made Beth think that she was being sincere. Despite the woman's hardened exterior, Beth thought that she honestly wanted to see the best in people. It was a trait that perhaps more of them need these days. Perhaps it was only possible for Deanna because she'd never seen what was outside the walls of Alexandria. She hadn't seen the horrors that they had.

"How would you feel about teaching, Beth? Setting up a school of sorts? Here at Alexandria we believe very strongly in education, and we would love to have you on board with that."

"I'm… I'm no teacher," Beth said, stumbling slightly over her words. Whether that was due to her nerves or the wine, she didn't know. Perhaps it was a little bit of both.

"But you know how to communicate with the children, and that's what's important," Deanna answered. Beth gulped, feeling that Deanna was putting entirely too much faith in her abilities. Sure she liked kids, but she'd never claimed to be the frickin' child whisperer.

"I'd love to," Beth said at last, hoping that her agreement would end the topic. As much as she liked being included in the conversation, all the focus being on her made her uncomfortable. She took another swig of her wine, finishing the glass. How had she finished it so soon?

"Excellent," Deanna said, clapping her hands together. "I propose a toast," Deanna continued. The woman somehow produced another tray of wine, passing it to those in the circle. Beth automatically reached out to grab another; ignoring the look Glenn shot her. She could handle her drink, she'd be fine.

"To Maggie and Beth," Deanna said, chinking her glass against the others in the circle.

"And to Alexandria," Maggie added, once again raising her glass in the air. _Suck up_ , Beth thought.

"What are we celebrating over here then?" The new voice came from behind her, and she turned to see a young, relatively handsome, man behind her. Meeting her gaze, he winked at her, once again making her blush furiously.

"Ah, this is my son, Aiden. I don't believe you've met the lovely Greene sisters."

"I think I would have remembered if I had," the man, Aiden, said. Beth glanced over at Maggie, seeing a polite, though indifferent smile on her face. Glenn scowled at the newcomer in a way that made Beth believe that Glenn had in fact met Aiden before. And by the look of it, it hadn't been the greatest of starts.

"It's a pleasure to meet you_"

"Beth," she supplied.

"Beth," he repeated, as if trying the name on for size. She could see that it made Maggie bristle, but she ignored her older sister. If Maggie could be happy, then so could she. And stuff Daryl. He didn't even care enough to come with her to this damn party. She didn't need him to have a good time.

Besides, she worked hard to dress up for this party, and to look nice for once. It had taken almost an hour to find the red dress she was currently wearing, and even longer to style her hair into soft curls. Without a curling iron, it was no easy task. She deserved some attention for her efforts.

Aiden took Beth's hand and lifted it to his lips, planting a soft kiss there. The gesture was swoon worthy, though she didn't feel anything of the sort. Maybe the alcohol was just dulling her senses, and her ability to be seduced.

"May I get you another drink?" Aiden asked, his eyes landing on her now empty glass. Empty? Hadn't she just gotten that glass? Christ, she needed to slow down.

Still, she nodded, figuring that as long as the room wasn't spinning, she'd be fine. The moonshine Daryl had given her had been much stronger than the wine she was drinking now, and she'd been okay then. Apart from the whole arson thing, but she decided to overlook that small detail.

"Then follow me," Aiden said, taking her by the hand and leading her away from the small circle of people. She could feel Maggie and Glenn's judging eyes on the back of her neck, and she had to resist the urge to flip them off.

They made their way through the living area where the majority of the guests were congregated. She waved at those she knew and smiled at those she didn't.

Eventually they reached the back of the house and what look like a study. A large oak desk dominated the room, grander than anything she'd seen in her entire life. From the pristine condition it was in, she guessed that it was rarely used.

Aiden walked over to a cupboard on the wall, pulling out a bottle of amber liquid. "My Dad's finest whiskey," he said, holding the bottle out to her. She assumed that he expected her to be impressed by this, so she smiled and nodded. To be honest, all alcohol was the same to her at the moment. Some was just slightly better tasting than others.

Aiden placed two glasses on the desk, and began pouring out the amber liquid. Beth perched herself on the corner of the desk, continuing her scan of the office. It truly was magnificent.

"How does this place remain so untouched by everything outside?" She asked, taking the glass that was offered as she did so.

"The walls, they keep us safe," Aiden said. He perched next to her, perhaps a little closer than she would have liked. She didn't say anything or move away. How could she when he'd just given her his dad's finest whiskey?

She took a sip of the stuff, wincing at the taste. She was almost tempted to spit it back out, but feared it would make her seem rude, so instead just choked it down.

Aiden chuckled from beside her. The sound was prickly and mocking, nothing like the warm chuckle that she used to hearing from Daryl. Why was she even comparing Aiden to Daryl?

"Not a fan, huh?" He said, nudging her gently in the shoulder. She shook her head, her blonde curls tickling her neck as she did so.

"You get used to it," he added, sipping at his own glass. Beth watched his face carefully, monitoring it for any signs of disgust. It remained neutral, appreciative if anything.

She lifted an eyebrow at that, not entirely convinced. She took another sip all the same, her throat erupting into flames as it went down.

"Aren't you worried that the walls won't keep?" She asked, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. She wasn't used to having it down now, and it was starting to irritate her. She wished that she'd brought a hair band with her so that she could sweep it back into its usual ponytail.

"Of course they'll keep," Aiden replied, sounding offended at her suggestion. "My dad built them himself. Believe me, nothing is getting through those walls."

 _A herd of walkers might,_ she thought to herself, though daren't say it out loud. The last thing she wanted to do was offend the son of the leader of Alexandria.

"And if anything did, you wouldn't have to worry. I'd be here to protect you."

She almost laughed at that, but stopped herself at the last second upon seeing that he was serious. The idea of any of the Alexandria residents trying to protect any one her family was almost comical. They really had no idea what they'd been through.

"I think I can protect myself," she said. The thought of anyone thinking otherwise irritated her to no end. Even her own family had doubted it once.

"Beth Greene, you really are something else," Aiden said, grinning at her wolfishly. She only smiled in return, hopping off the desk as gracefully as she could whilst wearing heels.

The room swayed a little but she shook it off. She'd be fine.

"Lets get back to the party," Beth said, gulping down the rest of the liquid in her glass. It still tasted horrible, but she found that she didn't really care anymore. Still, she was eager to get back to the wine.

Aiden snorted, finishing off his own whiskey. "You call that a party?" He said, shaking his head.

"It's the closest I've been to one," she responded, and immediately wished she hadn't at the look of disbelief he shot her.

"What?" She asked defensively, wrapping her arms around herself as if to protect her from his judgment. It wasn't as if it was a big deal. The world had just gone to shit before she'd ever gotten the chance to go to one.

"It's just I'm surprised," Aiden said, wiping the look of disbelief off his face. It was replaced by what she was sure was his most charming smile. To her, it looked as fake as Carol's.

"I thought a pretty girl like you would be out partying every weekend."

"Flattery," she stated as she brushed past him out the door. "Will get you nowhere."

He chuckled as he followed behind. She sauntered back into the main living room where all the fun was going on. Well if you could even call it fun. This whole thing was really more like a conference than a party. Maybe Daryl had had the right idea after all.

"What _will_ get me somewhere?" Aiden asked, trailing at her feet. She glanced at him over her shoulder, shaking her head slightly.

"What?" He asked catching the movement. "You have a boyfriend or something?"

She sighed, sitting down on one of the couches. She felt like she was in heaven as she sank into the cushions, it was the most comfortable couch she'd ever sat on in her entire life. At least she thought it was. It had been a while since she'd been able to relax on a sofa.

"No," she said, though even as she did so, images of Daryl flashed through her mind. After they'd rescued her from Grady, Beth and Daryl had maintained the close relationship that they'd developed after the fall of the prison. They were friends for sure, but she wasn't sure if there was something more to their relationship than friendship alone. On the night of her capture, she was certain that he'd cared for her, more than as a friend. But then everything had happened and now she wasn't sure where she stood.

"Then give me shot," Aiden said, plonking down on the couch next to her. She rolled her eyes, hoping he didn't see.

"I'm not looking to date anyone right now," she said, resorting to one of her old lines. She wasn't sure that it would still work in an apocalyptic environment, but she'd give it a go. "And besides," she continued, but just then Carl strolled past her, a can of beer in his hand.

"Carl!" She exclaimed, waving him over. At her look of outrage she could see that he contemplated fleeing, but in such close quarters, he thought better of it.

Looking like a naughty schoolboy, he stood in front of Beth, his eyes cast down.

"Where did you get that?" She demanded, indicating the can in his hand. It was a stupid question considering the cans surrounded the entire room, but her foggy brain couldn't come up with anything better to say.

"Never mind," she said before he even had a chance to reply. "Just give it to me and I won't say anything to your dad."

"Beth, come on! It's not a big deal," he argued, but they both knew it would do no good.

"Hand it over," she said, clicking her fingers as she did so. Reluctantly, Carl handed her the can before sulking off back to his group of new friends. "And don't let me see you with another one," she called after him, absently wondering when she'd filled the role of the embarrassing aunt.

"Wow, poor kid," Aiden said, a look of amusement on his face as his eyes flitted between her and Carl's retreating figure.

"I'm a teacher now, didn't you hear?" She said, gulping down the can of beer. Much to her delight, it was practically full. "I have a duty to keep these kids in line."

"Maybe someone needs to keep you in line," he said, trying to take the can from her hand. She batted him away, hitting his knuckles hard enough that he cradled them against his chest.

"I don't need anyone to keep in line," she said, the words coming out ever so slightly slurred.

"Okay," he said, not believing her for a second, though she barely noticed as she kept on drinking the beer. But she really did miss the wine. That's what she needed, more wine.

She said as much, moving to stand up. "Whoa there," Aiden said pushing her back down. "I can get that for you."

"I can do it," she argued, annoyed that he'd think otherwise. "I'm perfectly capable of getting my own drinks."

"I insist," he said, and at last she let him get up. There was no point in trying to stop him when he was so eager to be chivalrous. Also, she wasn't entirely sure that if she did get up, she'd be able to walk in a straight line.

Aiden came back with her wine, and so the ritual went on. Throughout the night, she kept demanding more and he kept getting it for her. A small part of her brain told her to stop, that she'd already drunk too much, but for once the worries that seemed to follow her had gone. She felt so light, so carefree. It wasn't a feeling she wanted to give up soon.

She could feel her eyes beginning to droop closed, the effects of the alcohol finally catching up with her. The room was blurry around the edges and rubbing her eyes open only made it worse. But she refused to fall asleep here on Deanna's couch. She'd never hear the end of it.

"I think I need to go home," she said, pushing herself up off of the cushions. Every muscle in her body screamed at her to sit back down, to relax, to sleep. The only thing that stopped her from doing just that was the thought of an actual bed waiting for her.

"I'll walk you," Aiden said, and this time she didn't protest. She wasn't entirely sure that she'd be able to make it on her own. With a grateful smile she took the arm he offered her and together they made their way out of the house and onto the street outside. Beth barely noticed the suspicious glances being thrown her way, both off of her friends and strangers.

As soon as they were outside, she sucked in a deep lungful of fresh air. It was a surprisingly cool night, a nice relief from the stuffy living room she'd just exited. Though the fresh air did her a lot of good, not even that could wash out the effects of all the alcohol. Beth hated to admit it, but she was most very drunk.

It was lucky that Aiden knew where she lived, because Beth herself was in no fit state to navigate. Instead she just let herself be dragged along, leaning on him for support more than she'd like to have been. She could barely keep herself upright, let alone walk in a straight line.

She'd have to thank Aiden later. He was being so nice to her.

Through her drunken haze, Beth surveyed the street they were walking down. A garage light was on a few houses away, the yellow light illuminating the rest of the street. It wasn't the street that her house was on, she knew that much. Deanna had purposely placed their gang far away from the other residents to avoid any trouble.

"Why are we going down here?" She asked in confusion, a frown forming across her brows.

"I'm taking you home," Aiden said, laughing at her as if she were being stupid. But this wasn't her street, she was sure of it. They were too far from the fence to be going towards her house. In fact they were walking in the wrong direction entirely.

"I don't live up here, I live over there," she said, pointing her finger in the direction that she thought they should be going in. With the darkness and the alcohol in her system, she could've been pointing anywhere really.

"Well, we're taking the long way round," he said, shrugging off her complaints as if they were nothing.

"Aiden," she groaned, halting on the spot. "I'm tired, I want to go home."

He tugged at her arm, though when she stood frozen, a look of irritation crossed his features. It wasn't a good look on him. It ruined any charm he might have had otherwise.

"For gods sake, Beth. You're not going to get home any quicker by standing still."

"I'm not going to get home any quicker by walking in the wrong direction," she retorted, pulling her arm out of his hold and crossing them over her chest. She suddenly felt very exposed here on this quiet street with only Aiden for company. He wasn't making for a very good companion at the moment, as his irritation turned into anger. The change had been so quick, she hadn't seen it coming. Just minutes ago he'd been laughing.

"Come on, let's go," he said, reaching to grab for her arm again. She dodged him the first time, but it only spurred on his anger. At the second swipe he managed to latch onto her, his grip like a vice.

"Ow, Aiden you're hurting me. Let go!" She tried to tug her arm away but there was no way to make him let her go. As she stumbled along behind, for the first time fear ran through her. Icy cold fear that was enough to sober her up just a little. Not enough though.

Maggie had once told her that if she ever found herself in this position, her teeth and nails were her best weapons. 'Aim for the eyes and the groin' Maggie had said. It wouldn't be pleasant, but she'd do what she had to.

She wondered if Aiden would behave this way if he knew what she'd done to Gorman. Somehow she seriously doubted it.

As he pulled her further down the street, she increased her struggles. She sank her nails into his wrist, feeling hot, sticky blood well up where she'd pierced the skin.

He gasped in pain, stopping abruptly, throwing her off balance. "Bitch," he hissed. He let her go, shoving her away. With a crash, she landed on the floor, hard enough that she was sure it would leave a bruise in the morning.

"I did tell you to let go," she said, still emboldened by all the wine she'd drank. She'd have been better to just keep damn mouth shut, because Aiden's eyes glinted dangerously.

"Psycho, little bitch," he growled, stalking towards her. She tried to shuffle away, but a girl could only move so fast in a dress and heels whilst sprawled out on the floor. He lifted a hand as if to strike her, but before he could come any closer the click of the safety being let off a gun rang out through the otherwise silent night.

"Don't you fuckin' dare move another inch."

Her eyes glanced over Aiden's shoulder where she saw Daryl, her guardian angel, with the barrel of a gun pointed at the back of Aiden's head.

His face was completely still, and it was only because she knew him so well, that she sensed the pure fury rolling off of him.

Aiden's eyes flooded with fear as cold metal pushed against his skull. One tiny movement and we'd be scraping his brains off of the pavement in the morning.

"Come on, man," he said, his voice falsely light hearted. "We were just messing around."

"Sure didn't look that way from where I was standin'," Daryl said, pushing the gun harder against Aiden's head. His eyes were dark, more so than usual. And for a second Beth thought he might actually do it. Oh, god, Daryl was actually going to kill Aiden, and then they'd all get kicked out of Alexandria, and they'd be back on the run, and it was all her fault.

"Daryl, don't," she said, hoping her voice sounder firmer than she felt. For the first time he looked at her, properly looked at her over the shoulder of the man he had at gunpoint.

"Why shouldn't I?" He asked, a deathly calm overcoming him.

"Because," she pleaded, desperately trying to hold his gaze. "Who will that help? It won't help me! All you'll be doin' is dooming us all to life outside the walls again. And that's not better."

For a second, she thought he'd shoot him anyway. She could see it all play out in her head, and she cringed into the concrete in anticipation of the shot.

Instead Daryl just pushed Aiden away, roughly enough that he almost lost balance and landed on the floor beside Beth.

"Don't _ever_ come within a hundred yards of her again, ya hear?" Daryl growled, sounding so deadly that it scared even her a little bit. She could only imagine the terror that Aiden must be feeling.

"Y-yes, sir," Aiden stuttered, scrambling away. Beth almost snickered at his use of the word 'sir'. Daryl was a lot of things, but a sir he was not.

"And ya better hope our paths never cross again."

Beth wasn't sure whether Aiden heard that last part or not. He was too busy high tailing it out of there.

"You alright?" Daryl asked, his brow creasing in worry.

"I'm fine. Maybe a little bruised, but I'll live."

Daryl just nodded, though he still looked as if he might go after Aiden and put a bullet through him.

Beth looked around her, realising that she was still on the floor. The very cold floor.

"Help me up," she said, sticking out hand towards Daryl. Without hesitation he took a hold of it, pulling her to her feet. The force behind the gesture was just a little too much for her right about now, and she immediately stumbled forwards, crashing into his chest.

"Thanks," she mumbled, grabbing hold of his vest for support.

"Geez, girl. How much did ya have tonight?"

The arm that wrapped around her waist to prevent her from falling was warm, and strong, and safe. She nestled further into him, which she knew she only got away with because of her drunken state. Perhaps it wasn't such a bad thing after all.

She held up her thumb and index finger, a tiny gap between them. "I may have had a little wine," she said, and then let out a manic giggle that seemed to erupt out of nowhere.

Daryl only rolled his eyes, turning them around so that they were facing the direction of their house. The direction she should have been going in all along. "Course ya did," he mumbled. "Lets get you home."

Beth didn't protest as he began to lead her home, his arm still wrapped around her waist. They'd only made it a couple of feet before Beth yelled out.

"Wait!"

Daryl didn't say anything, just cocked an eyebrow and watched as Beth kicked off her heels. She scooped them up, clutching them to her chest as if they were something precious.

"Beth, put yer shoes back on," Daryl said after a minute or so, though even through her drunken haze she could sense the amusement in his voice.

"No, they hurt," she retorted, holding them tighter to her chest. As she shook her head, her blonde curls were picked up by the wind, flying around her face.

"Don't blame me when ya get cold feet," he said, ever the sensible one. But she wouldn't let him win this one. Those heels were not going back on her feet.

"I won't," she said stubbornly, walking forwards to power on with her journey. The fact that she had to clutch on to Daryl's arm to keep from landing on her face ruined her dramatic exit a touch, but she'd work with what she had.

It only took a couple of minutes before her teeth began to chatter, the cold seeping into her bones. But ever the warrior, Beth pushed on, not mentioning the fact that she was slowly turning into an ice cube. The alcohol went some way to warm her up from the inside anyway.

"Told ya," Daryl said from beside her, and before she could protest, the floor had disappeared from under her feet. She let out a terrified squeak as she was scooped up into his arms.

She instantly felt warmer, and not because her feet were no longer on the cool ground. Beth leant her head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart.

"What were you even doing out here?" She asked, gazing out at the empty streets. It was so quiet. For the first time in a long time the moan of walkers didn't create a constant background noise.

"Fixin' up a bike that Aaron found. Said it's mine if I want it."

"Oh my god, Daryl! That's great news!"

Looking at him she could see the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. She knew what this meant to him. A bike was a symbol of freedom for him. He wouldn't be contained within the walls. Beth just hoped that no matter where he went, he'd always come back again.

"So does that mean you're gonna be gone a lot?" She asked, and even to her own ears she sounded small. Truth was, no matter how happy she was for him, she was selfish enough to want him here with her.

"Probably," he said. She hoped to dear god that he couldn't see her face drop in the darkness. "Aaron wants me to help him recruit other groups. We leave the day after next."

"For how long?"

She bobbed up and down as he shrugged, the motion making her slightly nauseous. But nowhere near as nauseous as the thought of Daryl leaving her did.

"For as long as the supplies last for, or til' we find people to bring back."

"Oh," was all she said, shrinking just a tiny bit more.

They remained silent for the rest of the journey. Remained silent as Daryl pushed open the front door with a dirty boot. Remained silent as they ascended the stairs, before eventually going into the bedroom she shared with Sasha. It was empty, as Sasha was on patrol tonight.

Gently, he put her back on her feet, though a stable hand remained at the small of her back. Every cell in her body tried to pull her towards the bed, tried to make her cocoon herself in a blanket and pass out. But against her better judgement, she remained standing, using one of the bedposts for support.

"Thanks," she said, looking down at the wooden slats at her feet. The moonlight shining in from the window reflected off the gloss.

"For what?"

"Savin' me," she said, looking up. To her surprise, he was staring right back at her. Though his expression was closed, as it so often was, his eyes shone. They were filled with something that she couldn't quite place her finger on.

"Was nothin'," he replied, lifting his shoulders once again in a shrug. The standard Daryl Dixon response. "Looked like you were handlin' it pretty well on your own anyway."

She thought back to the way she'd torn through Aiden's skin. glancing down at her fingers, she saw the tips were stained red. She wondered whether Deanna would be so eager to give her that teaching job now.

"Not just for tonight," she said. "You've saved me more times than I'd care to admit, and for that I'm grateful. I owe you my life, Daryl."

"You don't owe me nothin'," he replied, and for once he allowed some sort of emotion to be heard in his voice. It was fierce, and strong, and in some round about way, sweet. "You don't owe nobody nothin', you hear?"

His hands came up to grasp her face. His palms warm against her cheeks. For a fleeting second she thought he might kiss her, but then thought better of it. Why would Daryl want to kiss a sad, drunken girl such as her?

"Okay," she said, covering one his hands with her own. They were tiny in comparison, though just as scarred.

They lingered there for a moment longer. A moment that seemed to stretch on for eternity, where there was no one else in the universe but them.

"Good, now get some sleep. You're gonna have a killer hangover tomorrow," he said, breaking the moment. But that was okay. She'd take what she could get.

She groaned. "Uh, don't remind me. Oh god, Maggie's never going to let me near alcohol ever again."

"Maybe that's for the best," he chuckled, the moonlight catching the side of his face. In that lighting, he really was quite beautiful. Beth immediately felt self-conscious for the having thought it.

She sat down on the edge of the bed, sinking into the soft duvet. Daryl moved towards the door, looking over his shoulder at her once as he did so. "Night," he said.

Just as he was about to leave, where he'd disappear into the night, she spoke up.

"Will you miss me? When you're out of the walls, I mean." It wasn't something she would have said had she been sober. She never would have even considered speaking the words aloud. They made her sound whiney, and clingy. But at this precise moment, with numerous glasses of red wine spurring her on, she really didn't care.

He only frowned, and her heart tumbled in her chest as he did so. She wasn't sure what she'd do if he said no. Surely Daryl wouldn't be so cruel to her, but then again it was _Daryl._ He wasn't exactly known for his outstanding social skills.

"Ya know," he said after the longest pause in the world. A pause in which she was quite literally sitting on the edge of her seat, well bed. "If you want to come with, you just have to ask."

A grin stretched across her entire face, a proper ear-to-ear grin. Excitement rippled through her veins at the idea,of her and Daryl back on the road again. Just like old times. As much as she loved Alexandria and the safety the walls brought with it, she couldn't help but miss the freedom, the adrenalin that came with living on the outside.

"I might just take you up on that, Daryl Dixon," she said. She just hoped that she'd remember all of this in the morning.

"Good," he said return, strolling backwards until he was swallowed up by the darkness of the hallway. Just like that he was gone.

But that was okay, because she knew she'd see him again tomorrow. And perhaps the day and the day after.

Beth lay back on the bed, her head sinking into her pillows. She'd miss pillows once they left the walls, she decided. But not even that could wipe the smile off her face. And even as she drifted into a much-needed sleep, the traces of that smile lingered.

 **Hey guys thanks for reading! Feel free to leave a review or PM me with suggestions!**


	4. Sacrifice

_**One shot based once the squad are at Alexandria and have entered the war against Negan. Beth has been captured by enemy forces.**_

The barrel of the gun was icy cold against Beth's head. It was all she could focus on as she stumbled through the woods, not even trying to be silent, as Daryl had taught her to be. In fact, all she wanted was a herd of walkers to appear out of nowhere. To decimate the group she was with. And if that meant her being decimated along with them, that was fine. As long as her family was safe.

But she had no such luck. The woods that surrounded Alexandria were as clear as she had ever seen them.

Negan, at the front of the pack slowed to a stop. In almost perfect synchronisation the rest of the group followed suit. The guy who was pressing the gun against her head put a heavy hand on her shoulder, forcing her to halt. Also making an escape impossible, as if the gun hadn't been enough.

Negan didn't speak. He didn't have to. With just a small motion of his hand, the entire group fell into formation around him. Beth ended up almost directly behind the leader, so that she was shielded from view. Her family wouldn't know she was there until Negan decided to reveal her.

She could only hope that Tara had gotten back to Alexandria already, and warned the others of what was heading their way. In the short amount of time it had taken the hostile group to drive to the woods that bordered Alexandria, and walk to this point, her family wouldn't have been able to prepare much of a defence. Any plan they formed would be rushed and unpredictable. But hopefully, with Tara's warning, they wouldn't be taken by surprise.

Negan began to lead the way forward, everyone falling into step behind him. Seeing their organisation first hand, it didn't surprise Beth that they'd managed to conquer so many communities. They truly were an army, a force to be reckoned with. Their small group had never stood a chance.

The trees around them began to thin out, and Beth knew if she peeked around the shoulder of her captor, she'd be able to see the fence of Alexandria. She'd be able to see the lookouts walking the border, the barrels of guns pointed right at them. But she didn't look.

Beth had walked through these woods with Daryl hundreds of times, hunting and foraging. She perhaps knew them better than she knew Alexandria itself. Better than she knew the lands surrounding the farm that had been her home for most of her life. She'd always felt safe here, walking through what she considered home. Now walking through them, Beth only felt as if she was walking towards an execution block.

They broke the tree line, the sun beaming down on them from above. It was too bright, too warm to be the backdrop of what would likely be a slaughter. Beth just prayed that her family wouldn't be the ones on the receiving end. As long as the gates remained closed, they'd be safe.

She repeated this to herself as they came to a stop once more. There was still quite a stretch between them and Alexandria, but she knew that bullets could easily cross the distance.

Negan held out a hand, and Beth held her breath wondering what he could be asking for. A gun? A grenade? A guy to the left of her placed a black rectangle in the leader's hand, and it took her a second to recognise it was a walkie-talkie. She supposed it shouldn't have surprised her that they'd have such a tool to communicate, considering the way the group seemed to know what was going on everywhere. It made sense that there'd be similar devices dotted around the area they'd conquered so that Negan could keep an eye on the communities he'd taken control of.

From where she stood, so close to the leader, she could hear static rumbling through the device. Then all at once, it came to life.

"What do you want?" A voice came through. Even through the static, Beth knew immediately that the voice belonged to Rick. Vaguely, she wondered when Alexandria had acquired a walkie-talkie themselves, but didn't have the focus to think further into it.

"You know what we want, Rick," Negan said. He sounded far too calm, chipper even, considering the number of guns that were surely aimed at his head.

"And you know that we're done with your demands," Rick said, and Beth could hear murmurs of agreement as background noise. She suddenly felt a flood of pride wash through her at Rick's words. She was proud that they'd decided to take a stand when so many others had withered under Negan's control. They were stronger than that. They refused to be controlled.

The twitch in Negan's jaw made her nervous. A crack in his armour. She'd seen first hand what Negan could do to those who disobeyed him, and she could only be thankful that he didn't have Lucille with him. No one would be bludgeoned here today.

"I'm not an unreasonable man, Rick," Negan started, any sign of annoyance hidden under his diplomat mask. "Open the gate and nobody gets hurt. We didn't come here to fight. Just to take what's ours."

Beth almost scoffed at that. As if sensing her reaction, the guy behind her tightened his grip, his fingers pinching into her arm. She bit down on her lip to stop herself crying out. It was only a second before she tasted the tang of blood on her tongue.

There were grumbles on the other end of the line, but Rick spoke over top of them. "I think we both know that that's not going to happen."

Negan only grinned at that, his teeth white enough that she thought her family behind the fence could probably see it too. A pit of dread opened up in her stomach, threatening to swallow her whole. She almost wished it would, so she wouldn't have to see the consequences of that grin.

"Well, we did think you might say that," Negan said. His hand twitched slightly, and Beth felt the grip on her arm become even tighter. A tourniquet. The guy holding her shifted. "So we figured we'd make a trade."

With a flick of his hand, Negan motioned for Beth to be brought forward. She dug her heels in slightly, just for the sake of being stubborn. She knew it would do nothing to change what would happen, she knew it wouldn't stop anything. She just felt defiance running through her blood.

Beth felt herself being shoved, and she stumbled forward, catching herself before she fell. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction of humiliating her.

As she was being dragged towards the front of the pack, to stand beside the leader she presumed, she heard Rick on the other end. "What trade?" He bit out, and she could tell that it was killing him to have to ask. Perhaps they already knew of her capture. Tara hadn't seen them actually take her, but from the way she'd been surrounded back at the supply store, what would come next had been obvious.

By now she was at Negan's side, her heart slamming against her ribcage. _Be brave,_ she told herself.

Negan reached out, clamping a hand onto her wrist. She was jerked forward, into Alexandria's line of vision. "Your girl," Negan said, still seeming completely unfazed. His arrogance telling her that he already thought he'd won. Something about that set a fire in her belly. He would not win. If it was the last thing she did, she'd make sure he didn't win.

"For what you owe us."

There was radio silence on the walkie-talkie, and she assumed that her family had moved away from the device to discuss. She could almost see them in her minds eye. Maggie would be frantic with worry on the inside, but the only outward sign of it would her constant tapping on her thigh. Rick would be tearing his mind apart trying to think his way out of this, though would remain calm for the sake of the rest of the group, talking through their options. Michonne would be standing close to Rick, right in the centre of the discussion, though mostly silent. And Daryl… she wasn't quite sure what Daryl would be like, which was strange because he was the one she knew the most. She could predict his reaction to almost any situation, knowing what he would do almost before he knew himself. She could only hope that he would do what was best for the entire group, and not make any risky plans just to save her. She was only a single girl.

The silence continued, and she wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing. It meant that they were taking more time to come up with a plan. But it also meant that there must be disagreement. Whatever plan they had wasn't unanimous. A small, selfish part of her hoped that the plan that won included saving her. But she knew that to do that, someone else would have to put themselves in danger. And Beth knew exactly which person would volunteer for the job.

"This isn't my camp," she said, speaking before her brain had a chance to process what she was doing.

"What?" Negan asked. He didn't seem fazed in any way by her question; rather he seemed just mildly irritated, as if he viewed her interruption as an annoyance.

"I said, this isn't my camp," she repeated, raising her voice to the point where she could be sure her family could hear her over the walkie-talkie. She just had to hope that they'd take the opportunity she was giving them and run with it.

"My people are about half a mile west from here. I've never been to this place before."

Negan crooked an eyebrow, his eyes raking her from head to toe. She kept silent, fearing her voice would give her away if she said anything else.

Before he could question her further, Rick's voice crackled through the walkie-talkie. "It's true. We don't recognise the girl you're talking to."

Beth tried to hide her sigh of relief. She should have known that Rick was smart enough to catch on and play along. He'd find a way to sort this out. The fact that no one had disputed her claim so far suggested that no one in this group had actually seen her with any of the people from Alexandria before. If she could see this through, she might be able to lead them away.

On a hunting trip with Daryl a few days ago, they'd seen a makeshift camp through the trees. They'd seen at least two people there, a man and a woman, but it looked as if there may have been more from the amount of stuff they had. The camp had been far enough from Alexandria that they hadn't deemed them an immediate threat, though they'd been sure to keep an eye on the camp.

Aaron had suggested watching them for a week or so to see if they could potentially be brought into Alexandria. Both Daryl and Beth hadn't been so keen on the idea. It just didn't feel right bringing in new people when they were in such a dangerous position with Negan. How could they bring new people into a war that they had no part in starting?

But if it meant drawing Negan's group away from her family, Beth would have no problem throwing those people in that camp under the bus. Perhaps new people to recruit and control would be enough to draw Negan and his minions away from Alexandria. At least for now.

"We have guns. My camp, I mean," Beth stated, knowing that it would only make the temptation all the sweeter. The idea of more weapons was always a luring offer.

As she'd suspected, Negan's interest was perked. For a long moment he just stared at her, and Beth stared right back, refusing to drop her gaze.

"You kept your mouth shut all the way here," Negan said, his brow dipping in the centre. "And now you decide to speak?"

Beth could feel the eyes of the group around her weighing on her. She could almost hear the held breaths of her family on the other end of the line.

"I don't see any point in holding it in any longer," Beth said, proud of how steady her voice was.

Negan took a step closer to her, causing her breath to catch in her throat. She wondered whether her family were watching, lined along the top of the fence. She supposed they'd have to be in order for Rick to have claimed they didn't know her. Beth almost wished that they'd go inside. I f anything did happen to her, she didn't want them to see it. And the last thing she wanted was for them to sacrifice their protection by coming out to rescue her.

As he looked into her eyes, she felt as if he was peering right into her soul, judging the truth of her words. Beth lifted her head slightly, meeting his gaze with as much confidence as she could muster.

"I don't believe you'd sell your friends out so easily," he said at last, removing his gaze and stepping back once again. "Though," he continued, talking to her over his shoulder. "I do admire your loyalty to these folks." He gestured to Alexandria, before lifting the walkie-talkie back to his mouth. His next words were very deliberate, meant for the ears of those on the other end of the line. "I just hope that they show you the same loyalty back."

Beth almost flinched at that, knowing the pain it would cause her family hearing. Loyalty wasn't the issue here. She knew full well that they'd do anything for her, just as she would for them. But sometimes loyalty wasn't about saving individuals, but rather protecting the group as a whole.

"Now," Negan continued, not waiting for an answer from either herself or from those in Alexandria. "I'm gonna come over there with the girl so you can take a closer look, see if you really don't know her. These sorts of negotiations should happen face to face, don't you think?"

"You leave your men behind," Rick said, his response immediate. It didn't surprise her how quickly he dropped back into the role of leader, of negotiator.

"I'll bring one man. You bring one too, and we're even," Negan said.

Everyone listening into the conversation knew full well that the sides weren't even. They never would be as long as this group had her, because for all the times this new world had hardened their hearts, they were still driven by their love for one another. Their group members, their family was worth more than any amount of supplies.

"Fine," Rick said, and with that Negan motioned for the guy who had been holding Beth. The three of them began walking, closing the distance between them and Alexandria. Her heart pounded in her chest, nerves making her fingers tingle. She screwed them into fists before uncurling them slowly. Beth repeated the action of over and over again, unable to calm herself. Still, even as panic began to take hold, part of her began to feel safe at the thought of soon seeing Daryl again. She had no doubt in her mind that that was whom Rick would bring. Both because he was the most obvious choice as second in command, but also because she knew Rick would feel he owed it to Daryl.

Whilst Beth and Daryl hadn't been obvious with their relationship like Glenn and Maggie had been, she was pretty sure her family and the rest of Alexandria knew there was something going on between them. They could probably see it in the way they always looked to each other for confirmation when about to do something, in the way they fell into perfect sync when out on a run, or even when doing the most mundane of things. That and the amount of time they spent together was probably a dead give away that their relationship had grown into something more than friendship.

She wasn't exactly sure what it was herself, but she did know that she didn't want it to end. She wanted to see where it went, to experience all that was to come.

They seemed to reach the gate far too quickly, stopping a good ten or so metres away. Two figures emerged on the other side of the fence. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw that one of them was Daryl, just as she knew it would be. His crossbow was out and aimed, the sight comforting her despite the perilous position she was in.

His dark eyes met hers, and it was only because she knew him so well that she saw the worry there. She tried to give him a small smile, though she knew it was stupid to try and pretend everything was okay. She could feel the cold barrel of the gun pressed against her temple once again. Negan grabbed her by the arm, pulling her forward in front of him.

The motion made Daryl tense, his fingers gripping his cross bow tighter than usual. But she knew that he wouldn't shoot, not whilst Negan was using her as a human shield. Daryl was a good shot, but not that good. Beth could tell that Daryl had come to this realisation too, as he forced himself to loosen his grip ever so slightly on the weapon. She could only imagine how much it killed him to do so.

"Well, we're here," Rick said, indicating himself and Daryl. He hadn't looked at her yet, and she was glad. If they were going to keep up the charade that she was from a different camp, they couldn't risk Negan seeing that they knew each other.

Beth might've been worried that Daryl had already given them away, but she knew that to Negan and his group Daryl would just look like a brooding redneck. They had no reason to believe he knew her.

"Yes, you are," Negan said. "And when you're ready you can go ahead and open the gate so we can make this trade and be on our way."

Rick's eyes finally flicked to Beth's, and she could see that he didn't want to abandon her out there any more than Daryl did. If those gates were to be kept closed, she would have to control the situation herself.

As subtly as she could, she gave Rick a slight shake of the head, trying to convey in one look that he should continue to play along.

"I'm telling you," Beth ground out, trying to sound as frustrated as possible. It wasn't hard given her current position. "This isn't my camp, I've never seen these people before."

She couldn't see Negan's reaction, but from the way Rick's features hardened, and they way Daryl stilled even further, she could guess that it was a look of disbelief.

"She's right," Rick called, his voice ringing out harshly against the quiet field. "We've never seen each other before. We're not gonna trade anything for a stranger. Sorry."

Daryl shifted, and she knew that it was Rick's apology that bothered him. Not because he was apparently apologising to our enemy, but because they both knew that apology was aimed at her. He was sorry for sacrificing her immediate safety for the protection of the whole group. Whilst that wouldn't lay well with Daryl, Beth was glad for it. She didn't want to be the one putting them in danger again. She never wanted to be the one to put them in danger.

"Maybe you should take a closer look," Negan said, pushing her forward a little more, out of his grasp. For a second, she considered running. But then realised that if she ran, in order to make it to safety, they'd have open the gate to let her in. Is that what Negan wanted? Is that what he'd planned?

Instead she just stood frozen to the spot, still able to feel the gun pointed directly at her. She could feel it burning a hole into the back of her head, as if she'd already been shot.

Rick took a long look at her, seemingly considering whether he recognised her or not. But Beth knew he was really just looking for confirmation from her. Confirmation that he was doing the right thing, that she hadn't changed her mind. She appreciated the thought, but knew that her wishes meant very little when it came to the safety of the entire group. She was just one girl, after all.

"We don't know her," Rick said with an air of finality that made even Beth want to cringe. From the corner of her eye, she saw Daryl's jaw tighten, the effort not to shoot, not to save her becoming too much.

"Okay," Negan said. Beth wished that she could have seen his face in that moment. Would she see defeat, anger, or just mere irritation that this wasn't going as he'd planned?

"We'll play this a different way then. I'm going to count to ten, and in that time you're going to open this gate." He didn't need to say what would happen if he reached ten.

"One," Negan started, and she felt every muscle in her body freeze. There was something about a countdown that made everything infinitely more terrifying. Even as a child, when Maggie and her were in trouble, all her dad had to do to make them do as they were told was to start counting down from three. Neither of them knew what would happen if he got to zero, but perhaps that was what made them so fearful. The not knowing.

"Two."

"We don't know her," Rick stated, still as calm as she'd ever seen him. She was glad that someone here was.

"Three."

"You can't win against us, Negan. Just go back to wherever you go and leave us alone."

"Four."

Beth's eyes flicked to Daryl's, but he wasn't looking at her. His eyes were trained on Negan, no doubt wondering if he could make the shot cleanly. She almost wished he'd take it anyway. If it hit her, so be it. It would be no worse than what would surely come anyway. But she knew that Daryl would never take that risk. He could never be the one to kill her.

"Five."

His eyes finally met hers, the panic there she was sure was evident not only to her but to anyone else who cared to look. Still, even with such a pained look crossing his features, he was still the most handsome man she'd ever seen in her entire life.

"Six."

She wondered if she should tell him she loved him. Because she did, she knew she did, and she'd known it for a while now. But perhaps that was too cruel. How could she do that knowing that they'd never be able to do anything with that love?

"Seven."

Instead she just smiled, hoping that it was enough. Somehow, she could tell that he knew anyway. He knew because he was Daryl and was excellent at reading people, and especially excellent at reading her, just as he always had been. Or perhaps he'd just always known.

"Eight."

"We're not opening the gate," Rick declared, and she thought she saw a bead of sweat begin to collect on his forehead. Or perhaps she was just imagining it because she could feel sweat begin to drip down her own face. No, that wasn't sweat, they were tears. Beth had no idea when she'd started crying, it hadn't been a conscious effort, just an innate reaction she supposed.

"Nine."

"Rick," Daryl said, speaking for the first time. And in that one word she could hear how far Daryl's panic really went. Daryl, the unshakable man, shaken to the core. It was more frantic than she'd ever heard him before, and she was touched that only she could bring out such a reaction in him.

But there was nothing to be done now. They'd all made their decisions; they'd just have to stick to them. And her decision was that she wasn't going to be the one to bring Alexandria down. It may have been a stretch to think that she was saving it, for she knew that the war would rage on long after this moment in time. But she wouldn't be the one to destroy her family, her home.

"Ten."

"She means nothing to us!"

Perhaps it was a last ditch attempt to save her life, but Beth would never know because Rick's voice was cut off by a gun shot.

 **Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Feel free to leave a review giving your thoughts and opinions, all feedback and suggestions are welcome! x**


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